Dillon Hunt And The Desert Oasis Resort by Chad Stewart (smart ebook reader TXT) 📖

The coyote lunged. Dillon barely managed to get out of the way. It slammed into a rack of clothing and got hung up for a moment. Dillon pulled himself off the floor and frantically looked for something to defend himself with. The coyote extracted itself and lunged again. Dillon managed to throw another rack of clothing in its way. The impact pushed Dillon aside and, as he fell, he felt a long hard object beside him as he scrambled along the floor. He realized at that moment that it was a broom. As he got his bearing again he grabbed onto the broom and shot it out in front of him just in time. The coyote bit down on the wooden shaft. It was only inches from his face. He could smell its foul rotten breath.

A small drop of saliva dripped from its mouth onto Dillon’s hand. Oh it burned! Dillon could feel the pain. He screamed out. With all his strength he pushed the broom to the side and squirmed out from underneath the creature. As it went to reposition its grip on the shaft Dillon yanked it from its mouth and swung it quickly around, slamming the creature in the face. The shock of the blow from the hit jarred the broom from his hand and it fell to the side. The coyote also flew to the side from the impact. As it struggled to get up again Dillon turned and ran for the hallway as quickly as he could. He knew he didn’t have time to pick up the broom as the creature appeared to be starting to recover already. He also knew he had to warn Tom Tom and couldn’t spare a second.

He raced down the hall as fast as his legs would carry him. He could hear that the creature had collected its senses again and was in pursuit. As Dillon neared the end of the hallway he spun into the room, bouncing a little off the door frame as he couldn’t enter the room cleanly because of the momentum he had gained from the run. He sprawled into a couple of boxes and then onto his back. He saw the coyote slam into the wall at the end of the hallway as it leaped for him just as he turned into the room. Its ugly face went through the drywall and it landed hard on the ground. Dillon didn’t wait to see if it was dead. He scrambled back away from the door, turned as he went, and jumped to his feet.

His heart sank as he saw the smashed boxes and overturned table of the room. It was clear that something happened to Tom Tom, but there was no sight of the old man. Dillon didn’t have time to think more about it as he heard the creature behind him again and just knew that it was coming for him without mercy. He went further into the room in search of the back door he knew was there. He had seen the door when he first pulled up to the center on his bike earlier and was determined to escape through it. He glanced back and saw the creature coming into the room just as he dove behind the overturned table. He landed hard on his back which winded him a little, but he shook that off, knowing that he had bigger problems to worry about at the moment.

Dillon heard boxes being thrown around and a low growl as the creature was trying to pin point his location. He rolled over, got to his knees, and peeked his head out a little. He saw the back end of the coyote slip behind some boxes at the far end of the room. He knew he had to make a run for it, but his one leg shook so bad from the sheer fright of the situation that he didn’t think he could make it. He grabbed it with his hand and tried to calm himself down by breathing deeply a couple of times. The rattling of the boxes was getting more feint which Dillon took as a sign that the coyote was further away now. Slowly he stood and tip-toed toward where he figured the back door was. He made it around some more boxes and racks and saw the door about ten feet away. As he got closer he suddenly heard a rustling sound as boxes and other items were being pushed out of the way. He looked to the left and could see items being thrown aside and could tell that the coyote was quickly closing in on him. He knew he had to make a run for it.

Dillon lunged for the door. He turned the handle but found that it was locked! He could hear the beast getting closer. He fumbled around with the handle and managed to somehow get it unlocked. It still wouldn’t open though. In his panic he didn’t notice that it was also dead-bolted! He finally saw it and turned the bolt and began swinging the door open as quickly as he could. Just as he was about to jump out the creature slammed into the door full-force. It slammed shut. The coyote lunged at Dillon. By pure instinct he shot out his leg and kicked the thing as hard as he could in the head. The creature spun backwards and landed hard on the floor. Dillon knew that this was his only chance. He pulled the door open again and ran outside. When he got out he turned and grabbed the handle. He pulled on the door as hard as he could. Suddenly the coyote’s head emerged from the bottom portion of the door. Dillon slammed its ugly head in the jamb. It didn’t even yelp, but continued to snap and growl, spraying acidic saliva all over the place. Thankfully none of it landed on Dillon.

Dillon screamed. He had to resist the urge to let go of the door with all his might. He knew if he did this fight would be over. He looked around frantically for something he could use to push the creature back inside. There was nothing. Then he had an idea. He let one hand go of the door handle and quickly reached over and unclipped his backpack. He then slipped it off his other arm, grabbed the strap tightly and began levelling it on the head of the creature. Blow after blow after blow came raining down on the monster. Dillon didn’t know if the beast could feel any pain but eventually it retracted its head enough so that he was able to open the door slightly and slam it down on the creatures snout as hard as he could. It finally made a yelping sound and pulled back into the room. Dillon slammed the door tightly.

He fell back, exhausted from the encounter. He tried to catch his breath. Then he heard it: distant howls coming somewhere in the desert. His heart skipped and his face went pale again. After taking a moment to digest what was potentially about to happen he leaped to his feet, clipped his backpack on, and ran to his bike. He slipped his helmet on and was off as quick as he could, back the way he had come. The howls were getting closer. He turned his head to look back as he entered the trail and could see something coming toward him in the distance. Then another object caught his attention out of the corner of his eye. He couldn’t make out what was coming toward him as the desert trail was constantly moving up and down along the landscape, but he had a pretty good—terrifying—idea. He silently berated himself for not taking the highway instead. At least he would have been able to see these things coming, and maybe even get help from a passing car. No. Unfortunately he